Use Me
by recension
Summary: Ginny's been having urges, but she can't ask anyone who loves her to give her what she really craves. When you need someone to use you, you should ask someone who doesn't care about you.
1. Use Me

**A/N: **I'm sort of HBP-framed here but I took some liberties with canon (Ginny's romantic timeline and Harry's honesty, Snape teaching Potions, etc), mea culpa, I hope you understand. I'm also a bit light on Draco's mentality at this time but see above. It's for the good of the sex; had to get the smut out of my system! Lastly please note this story has explicit elements and consider this your TW for _everything_. It features rough sex, dom-sub with a touch of dubious!con, breath-play, and blood-play. Better to be overzealous with the warnings, in my opinion. Do not read this story if this makes you uncomfortable.

_.  
_

* * *

_.  
_

_He tugged hard on her hair, like a shock to her system. She had no idea and every idea of what she was doing. She was in control and helpless at the same time. He wanted to make it hurt, she wanted it to hurt._

Ginny woke up in a soft sweat, mid-gasp to an empty dorm bedroom. She had had the dream again. The glimpse of her mystery dream lover faded quickly, evaporating like a vapor. She ran her hand along her naked neck, catching her breath she kicked off her sheets and blankets, uncomfortably warm under them. She wasn't sure when the dreams had started, but they were coming more frequently and winding her up in a way she could no longer control.

Her heart rate stabilized slowly, as the images of the dream faded completely. She sat up slowly, sliding from bed, tugging her nightshirt to cover her body as she stumbled restlessly to the bathroom. She brushed her teeth and stared at her reflection for a long moment in the old, greying mirror. Her hair always seemed redder in the morning, her skin paler, her eyes brighter. She looked at her wrists, empty of the rope burns and bruises she felt were there, she looked to her neck for the bite marks and finger digs she expected. None of it was real, but it would plague her every day, and every night again. Never real but real to her.

.

Ginny spent all morning in class doodling in her margins. She dragged her quill along the parchment, the vibrating scratch sending a stimulating chill up her arm. Ever since the dreams had started her concentration for academics had plummeted. She thought of hands grabbing her, she thought of dirty words whispered in her ear. She was unbelievably preoccupied with thoughts of a carnal nature. Shuffling from Transfiguration to Potions, she felt a hand run over her shoulder and the touch set her alight momentarily. She blushed as she realized the cause was Neville, catching her attention as he fell in step with her.

_Would Neville...?_ she thought, flashing her eyes up towards him as he talked nervously about his impending Herbology exam. _Could Neville?_ she wondered. They had gone to the Yule Ball together once upon a time, they had been close but not too close and it was 'always the quiet ones' or so they said. She distractedly nodded as he broke off and headed down a hallway and watched him recede. He apologized three times to a Hufflepuff girl he'd bumped into on the turn.

_Too polite,_ Ginny ruled in her mind, turning back into the crowd heading toward the dungeons.

She spotted Dean a few paces in front of her and watched his tall head bob and weave through the other students. They had broken up not too long ago, but sex had been part of the problem. She doubted approaching him for this sort of a favor would really get anywhere. Besides, he was—like Neville—too nice to treat her in the way she wanted. She turned into the Potions classroom and settled into her seat, pulling out her notebook.

_Maybe Snape,_ she thought, only half-joking herself as she watched the Potions master swirl his robes about the classroom, his arms bound to the wrist in tight black under cloth. _Probably wouldn't mind a bit of bondage_, she mused before chastising herself for the mad thought, gnawing on her lip as she returned to her doodles.

.

That night, the dream came to her again. Her dream lover stood over her, gripping her thighs and tugging them apart before entering her. He was a vision of darkness, but the way he gripped her skin, the way his cold words fell on her ear, it only reminded her of one person. Ginny woke that time to her own voice calling out, "Tom?" She held her breath as she saw a wand ignite across the room and a dorm mate called to her, asking if everything was all right.

"Fine," she whispered back. "Sorry. Bad dream."

"Sounded like a good dream to me," the other girl giggled softly in the quiet room before extinguishing her wand. Ginny caught her breath in the dark room, self-loathing pooling within her.

.

She spent the morning's breakfast trying to forget the name she'd called out that night, trying to put the whole matter behind her by sheer force of will. Before it had been random teen musings, her hormones in hyper-drive, not bold subconscious wanting of the man trying to change the world for the worse. "What's wrong with me?" she wondered.

She poked at the eggs on her plate, empty of appetite, trying to join Ron and Hermione's conversation. They were concerned about Harry, as usual; he had been sneaking off at all hours, preoccupied with following Draco Malfoy of all people.

"Maybe he has a crush on him," Ginny joked straight-faced, only smiling at Ron's twisted face of disgust.

"She was kidding, Ron," Hermione spoke dryly, rolling her eyes before returning to her morning paper.

Ginny scanned the Slytherin table, noting a lack of Draco Malfoy, which explained Harry's absence at their own table. When the blond entered the hall a moment later, Harry followed twenty steps behind.

_Would Harry...?_ she wondered, unable to help herself as she tried to imagine Harry ever hurting anyone, even if it was being asked for in specific terms. There was really no way Harry could do anything like she'd want, even if Harry and Tom shared more similarities than differences. She pushed the thought from her head again, angry at herself for musing on the matter again.

"Following Draco again?" Hermione asked and Harry nodded his response.

"I'm thinking about skipping some classes. I think he's noticed I'm following him," Harry filled his plate sloppily. "He's going to the Room of Requirement when I'm in lessons now, I just know it."

"Absolutely not," Hermione frowned. "Only, I mean, we can help out. We all have different schedules. We'll follow him equally, or try to. If you think it's that important."

Harry took a long moment to respond, chewing thoughtfully. "Only if you stay safe. Keep your distance," Harry warned Ron and Hermione, forgetting—as they so often did—that Ginny was there.

.

In an effort to keep her mind preoccupied in safe territory, Ginny took to following Draco's shadow when she could. As Harry had warned, she stayed safe and kept her distance, observing him often out of earshot even.

With the removal from her subject, she was free to notice details about him. The first thing that stood out about him was how beautiful his hands were. They were large, but not freakish, with proportional fingers and neatly trimmed nails. He held everything with a sure grip, his knuckles locked and strong. His forearms were toned, shapely but lithe. He almost always had his right sleeves pushed up to the elbow, but kept his left arm covered.

He was really quite a beautiful person when you just observed him. He spat words, yes, he snarled and smirked, was nasty to other students, but at rest his face was almost angelic. He had a sharp nose and chin, high cheekbones, an aristocratic face that he kept clean and shaved. It was clear he took pride in his appearance and made an effort to maintain it. He was objectively handsome, and staring at him for hours on end was not the worst chore.

She followed him on Tuesday and Thursday afternoons mostly, when Harry, Ron, and Hermione were in Defense Against the Dark Arts and thus otherwise occupied. His routine was the same most days: she'd follow him from lunch to the library, he'd study or write down notes, then head back to the dungeons immediately. On the fourth day she followed him, he broke from routine and crossed the castle to a classroom in the second floor's deserted West corridor. Ginny made note of the room, and waited for him to emerge. It was nearly a half hour later that he exited the room, looking around somewhat guiltily, as if he expected to be followed there before heading back to the Slytherin dorms. Ginny returned the the room after dinner but found it empty—just a disused lecture hall.

.

That night she had the dream again, but the setting had changed. Instead of the same nondescript bedroom, she was in the lecture hall in the West corridor. Her phantom held her body down, laying back on top the lecture table, he gripped her neck, squeezing breath from her throat.

"You shouldn't want this. What would your family think," he told her, the deep voice sending electricity to ever erogenous zone on her body. His hands slid from her throat to her bare breasts, squeezing them harshly, his lips trailing her neck with hot, sloppy kisses. He tugged her thighs apart roughly and she gasped as he entered her, causing her to scream and writhe in pleasure-pain at her instant orgasm.

"Tell me, Ginny Weasley, has anyone ever used you like this?"

.

Ginny followed Draco the next afternoon she could with her wand ready. She had a strong suspicion that whatever he was getting up to in the lecture hall was something he shouldn't be doing. She had a hunch it was relevant to Harry's wonderings. Also, if the dreams were intensifying as they seemed to be, she had to find a way to focus her waking life on something else.

She followed him to the second floor and waited a few moments before approaching the door. She pulled on the rusted door handle ring carefully, old hinges giving an awful metal screech as the door swung ajar. "Hello?" She called out into the classroom, her grip on her wand tight.

Murmured voices bickered in the dim, and a disheveled Pansy Parkinson poked her pug-face out from behind the long lecture platform's desk. "This room is occupied," she sassed at Ginny. When she realized their interrupter wasn't a professor, she stood fully, clearly shirtless but covered by a brassiere. "Leave," she ordered in a spat.

Ginny got the hint, and red-faced apologized before pulling the door shut.

The dream came to her again, trimmed nails digging into her back, one hand tugging her hair back with incredible force as teeth bit down on her throat. "Beg for it," the voice demanded. "What do you need?"

.

She returned to the classroom Wednesday, skipping her afternoon Divination lesson. She walked around the lecture table, standing where Pansy had stood, crouching down to see there was quite a roomy setup on the soft wood platform. In the corner of the nook was a stash of a few pillows and blankets. She moved the items hoping they might hide something but returned them with a heavy sigh when she found nothing. Apparently it was just as simple as it looked, as innocent as it looked really. Ginny stood, looking over the abandoned classroom wondering if it was a known make-out corner for Slytherins. Maybe that was why her dreams had started to take place here.

She walked the perimeter of the classroom, opening a supply closet in the back corner and curiously entering it. There were all sorts of forgotten books in the closet, the latest dates seemed to be from over two decades ago. It seemed the classroom had once held Arithmancy—the textbooks and long-forgotten notebooks of calculations giving away the purpose. She reached for an antique glass abacus on a high shelf as she heard the door of the classroom squeak open.

Ginny pulled the closet door nearly shut immediately, wishing she'd looked around for rats or spiders before even entering the confined space. She peered out the small crack she'd left for herself, hoping it was just Draco and Pansy again but she could see no one in the limited range of the view.

Her heart began to beat wildly and she drew her wand, waiting for a few minutes of silence before opening the closet door cautiously.

She extended her armed hand in front of her as she walked out of the closet, jumping as someone shut the door behind her.

"_Expelliarmus!_" a voice called out and Ginny watched her wand fly out of her grip, clattering to the stone floor.

She turned in surprise to see Draco Malfoy, unaccompanied, his wand raised and his chest rising and falling with quickened breath. "What the fuck are you doing here? Stalking me? Like Potter?"

Ginny's mouth was too dry to even respond. He was angry, truly angry, and at that moment all Ginny could think of was how badly she wanted him to grab her. _What do you need?_ the question pounded in her thoughts from the night before's dream.

"Well?" He impatiently demanded, crossing to her, grabbing her wrist to steer her to face him fully. Out of reflex her free hand reached up and clawed at his cheek, flesh scraping and his face recoiling as he cursed loudly in pain.

He took half a second to react before pushing her up against the stone wall, breath leaving her as her head smacked back against the stone and her vision briefly went dizzy. His hand, perfectly maintained and stronger than she'd imagined gripped at her throat, pinning her to the wall. His wand pointed at the space between her eyes as he stared her down. The silver of his irises was molten, liquid fury.

He was practically snarling, full of rage, blood now weeping from the scratches on his cheek. "You fucking bitch," he growled at her, gripping her throat as he tried to work up the will to curse her. After a long moment of silence he lowered his wand, reluctantly withdrawing his hand. It was more trouble than it was worth, and he couldn't risk the expulsion.

"You tell no one," he growled at her. "Or next time there will be no clemency," he threatened, walking backwards towards the door, not trusting her once she would get hold of her wand again.

"Draco," Ginny found her voice calling to him, dry and her throat hoarse, but she called out his given name. It stopped him in his tracks.

Ginny felt her body warm as the thought took over, her hands shaking at her side as she tried to find the nerve. "I have a proposition."

He didn't move from his spot, he didn't lower his wand, he didn't speak; but he also didn't leave.

"I want you to fuck me," the words tumbled from her lips warm, thankfully without cracking. They hit his ears like caramel, soft and sultry. Ginny had no idea the power she had. She had no idea that she was at her most beautiful, walking the sword's edge between corruptible innocence and knowing maturity. She was wild curves and untamed hair with oozing, natural self-possession. Those words from her plump lips sent blood between his legs without any conscious thought.

"Excuse me?" He asked, almost breathless, disbelieving. He kept his guard up only because this felt like an elaborate sort of trap. His cheek began to sting awfully.

She didn't seek to rearm herself though, she just stood there, back against the stone wall, her neck reddening where he had gripped her.

"I'm not asking for anything else. I don't even want tenderness... far from it," Ginny found her confidence, eyeing him like her next meal, predatory, daringly.

"You're mad," he uttered, raising his wand again half-heartedly.

"I want someone to fuck me and not love me. I want someone to bite me and scratch me and hold me down and use me. I'm sick of being precious and treated with caution. I'm not breakable, and I have needs," she explained, her eyes giving him a smoldering stare. "Hate me, and fuck me."

"Fuck off," he frowned, gathering his wits slowly but not able to leave the room. _Don't fall for this,_ he warned himself.

She moved from the wall then, slinking up to him a few steps. "I'm serious. We don't have to be friends, we don't even have to talk really," she closed the distance then, placing a fingertip on the tip of his wand, steering it away from pointing at her as she leaned up on tip-toe and grazed her lips against his.

He couldn't resist her.

Draco pressed his face into the kiss, his empty hand pushing her lower back, pulling her up to meet him with passion. He growled as her teeth closed around his lip and tugged hard, drawing blood. He shoved her away, tasting copper and salt in his mouth. "The bitch bit me," he mind protested and he reached up to feel his lip, looking down for visual confirmation as she stepped back, gnawing her lower lip in tempting faux-innocence.

"Sorry," she murmured, seeming very unapologetic, her arms held behind her back, her breasts straining against her school sweater as she carefully gauged his reactions.

He should have said no. He should have ignored her. But there were things Pansy was unwilling to try and Draco's stress level had shot through the roof since he had returned to school. The Mark, and his impossible mission weighed on his mind heavily all of the time. Having more sex—dirty and wrong and violent sex at that—could only help his focus.

"Tomorrow, 3'oclock. The Room of Requirement. Wait inside. There's no way I'm doing this here," he agreed. "And this better not be some sort of trick or I'll break your fucking neck, I swear."

Ginny felt gooseflesh develop up at his words, hating herself for her arousal but feeling her cheeks flush. She nodded, accepting his terms. Ginny watched him retreat from the room before retrieving her wand, leaving the room reluctantly.

.

She laid awake that night, actually hoping for the dream. Somehow she couldn't fall asleep, feeling his hand gripping her throat, the shift in his silver eyes as he agreed, his fierce kiss. She could imagine the passion he would bring, lighting her skin on fire. They hated one another, really. Their families had hated one another, since forever. There was no reason why she should want this, and that was why she wanted it more than anything. She drew the curtains around her bed closed, laying back under the covers for a few more sleepless moments. She bit down on her lower lip hard, scraping her nails along her thighs as her thoughts imagined Draco's hands touching her. She imagined his voice drawling against her skin, she imagined him holding her down, making her beg. She rubbed at her own panties, not surprised to find them wet, slipping her fingers under the cotton to touch her sex.

She gasped and writhed under the covers, her eyes shut tight as she imagined the fate that waited for her in the dungeons. She couldn't wait.

.

Draco spent the morning distracted. He had made sure to cancel with Pansy, made sure no one was expecting him. This was all crazy to him. The fact that he was going to have Ginny Weasley, really have her. Forbidden fruit, really. If only her brother knew. The fact that she wanted him at all. She was lucky she was pretty. He still was unclear if this was some sort of trick. He decided the Room of Requirement might be all of the security he needed. If her intention was really to harm him, kill him, or trap him, then when he walked by the entrance, reason lead him to hope the door wouldn't appear if his intention was just sex.

At 3 o'clock on the dot he moved from his dorm to the corridors, finding his way to the Room of Requirement. The door appeared and he was pleased to find her already there as requested. The room was empty except for a bed, an ornate four-poster with school regulation sheets. She looked remarkably innocent, perched on the edge of the bed in her uniform.

He didn't speak a word, as he entered the room, his footsteps grabbing her attention. She smiled softly in his direction, rising to her feet. When he had stopped his approach, she pulled her sweater up and off, soft red locks falling around her shoulders as she dropped the wool garment to the floor. She began unbuttoning her oxford letting him just watching her for a moment.

"You know you have to get undressed to, to do this properly," she murmured, pulling apart the shirt and shucking it to the pile.

Draco nearly laughed as she mistook his resistance for modesty. "I'm still a little unclear at why we're doing this at all. Because everyone treats you like glass? I'm sure you can find someone who can take sex from you without falling in love with you."

"It's not just sex. It's this kind of sex," Ginny frowned. "Did you not get the point yesterday? You're thicker than you look," she exhaled.

Draco felt his blood start to boil, which was exactly her intention. "You are such a fucking annoyance. No wonder no one will fuck you."

"That's not what I said," she defended herself, getting frustrated at his tone. He was infuriating in this close proximity.

He stepped closer to her, pushing her hair off of her shoulder, lowering one of her bra straps carefully. His finger traced her shoulder as he watched her breathing speed up. He ran the same finger along the lace edge of the bra cup, the reality of the situation dawning on him slowly. The simplest possibility—that she was here for precisely what she was asking for—seemed to be the truth. He hooked his finger into the waistband of her skirt, pulling her closer as his lips descended on hers.

She pressed passion into the kiss, eagerly letting her body press against his, her tongue sliding into his mouth seeking attention. She wasn't an awful kisser, though she was clearly a little sloppy. He pulled his lips back, keeping their noses touching as he unhooked her skirt and eased it off of her hips. "Out of the shoes, leave the socks," he ordered her, stepping back.

She shivered at the tone in his voice but did as he asked, toeing off her shoes, standing before him in only undergarments. She had freckles all over from the tops of her thighs to her stomach, trailing up and over her breasts. They were light, but noticeable. He pulled off his sweater and slid off his shoes, stepping out of his trousers as he watched her stand there.

She was full of nervous energy, he could sense it from across the room, but he chose to make her wait.

Ginny watched him undress slowly. He drew his socks down and off, and unbuttoned his crisp white oxford, pausing at the last button before disrobing it. He stood only a few feet away from her in just his boxers and Ginny felt an ache between her legs at the thought that her dream was finally coming true. It had never mattered who made this fantasy real life but she realized she had picked precisely the right partner in all of this.

He tossed his discarded shirt onto the pile and Ginny's eyes widened at the mark tattooed to his left forearm. Somehow it made her seem more childish, more innocent. Somehow it made him want to corrupt her more.

"On the bed," he ordered and she did as he asked, settling on the edge of the bed, her breathing shallow as he approached her. He gripped each hip of her panties and tugged the material down her legs quickly, the change of speed in his movements making her heart race. She shivered as she found her sex bare and he tugged her knees apart, pushing between them as he kissed her again.

His lips were soft, his kisses soft as he cupped her cheek and fed her desire.

She pulled her lips back, withdrawing for a moment as she caught her breath. He kissed her again, his tongue running over her lips and she pulled back once more, this time slapping his face firmly.

He panted angrily as his cheek stung from where she had clawed him and he'd been healed. He turned back to face her, reaching around her back and making quick work of removing her bra. He tossed the garment to the floor behind him and let his hands rub over her breasts, teasing her nipples with his thumbs as he kissed her again. He gave more force to the kiss thinking that was what she had requested with the slap. He wasn't used to complaints.

Ginny pulled back her lips and slapped him once more, Draco withdrawing his hands from her breasts, grabbing her waist and pushing her further onto the bed. His right hand fell to her sex, and he dragged his fingertips through her folds, pressing in just barely, enough to tease, pulling out to rub her clitoris in small circles. Ginny initiated a kiss then, tugging him to press his chest to hers, submitting to his steerage of the kiss briefly before pulling back once more. She raised a hand to strike him and he caught her wrist mid-air with a loud growl.

"Enough," he snapped at her, gripping her other arm, pinning her to lay back on the bed as he settled his hips between her thighs. His hands held her down as his mouth kissed and bit along her neck, proud to hear her actually begin to gasp and whimper in pleasure. He ran his tongue along one of her nipples, feeling her struggle once more before he bit down on the bud, suckling it once more before moving on to its twin. He let go of her wrists only to grip her hips, his bites trailing between her breasts and down to her stomach before he sat on his heels, pushing his boxers from his hips.

He asked no permission before entering her, pushing her into the bed with the force of his thrust. She was no virgin, and for that he was grateful. Her knees squeezed at his hips keeping him inside and her arms wrapping around him for security, her nails digging into his skin as he began to move.

He fucked her and fucked through her with thrusts unrelenting. In the beginning, he pulled out to the tip of his cock and pressed in to the hilt, stretching her with the most intense and satisfying burn. She was loud—a clear natural screamer. He took it as his challenge to make her make those unconscious noises, squeaks and deep satisfied grunts. Her nails dug deep into his skin, the pain spurring him on, but he couldn't last long.

Her muscles clung to him and with each soft whimper he grew closer. He pulled out of her before coming, shooting across the sheets beside her as he caught his breath.

Ginny laid back, panting. It hadn't been exactly what she wanted but she had never felt unsafe, which was a benefit.

Draco looked down at her, red hair splayed out on sheets and he just knew he hadn't performed to her expectation. Though he cared little for her, his ego was bruised. "You didn't come did you?" he asked, breathless. She reluctantly shook her head. Draco growled softly. "Give me a minute, we'll go again."

"That's all right, I don't..."

"No," he growled at her, finally catching his breath. He laid still beside her for a minute while he focused on hardening again. She sat up slowly, her hand running along his chest, down to his cock. Her fingers were soft, but she seemed to know what she was doing in this arena. Her grip was firm but not tight as she stroked him, her gaze flashing from his member to his eyes and back as she picked up her pace.

She ran her thumb around the tip of his cock and he shivered at the seasoned move. He looked up to her, busy with determination and for some reason he deeply felt the need to please her.

He grabbed her wrist and pulled her hand from his body, tugging her to lay flat again. He pressed his forehead against hers, sharing a breath as he entered her again. This time he took no pity, gripping her hair back as he kissed along to her jaw, his teeth scraping her ear as he held her down with all his strength, his hips beginning their assault.

His thrusts were metronomic and ceaseless, driving into her and giving her the most incredible sensations. She arched her back, angling into his thrusts, unable to help the constant gasping for pleasure. Every time he tugged her hair or bit down it only made her gasp more, his cock doing the most delicious things to her.

He let his grasp of her hair slack, kissing down her neck before pushing up on his arms hovering above her. In this new position he could angle more accurately, his pace picking up. They were both sweating, her breasts bouncing as she cheered him on with involuntary pleas of "yes" and "more" and "fuck" and "oh, Merlin."

She clawed at his arms and shoulders but he didn't slow, only observing her for signs of real pain. She gripped at the sheets below, gripped at his skin, gripped at her own body unable to find comfort at the strong force of her own physical reaction. He kept pounding her, pushing physical tire to the back of his mind as he focused on her.

She scratched her nails across his chest and he growled with his release at the added stimulation, not slowing his movements, not withdrawing.

"Come," he ordered, and she fell apart at the permission, her leg muscles giving violent spasms at his sides, her arms trembling as she gripped at her breasts and screamed his name. His name.

"Draco," rang in his ears as he slowed his hips.

She began to come down from her orgasm, but he didn't want to lose the momentum of the moment. After a few seconds of caught breath, and without a word, he withdrew, turning her over to lie flat on the bed. Her skin was glistening in the candlelight of the room, the sweet smell of her sex filling his nostrils.

His hands gripped her waist, keeping her flat as he entered her from behind, laying on top of her as he began to drive into her body.

Whether it was from shock, or surprise, or pleasure, she cried out. Her nails clawed at the bed, and it only seemed natural to Draco that he bend an arm up and grip at her throat. Again, his mouth found her ear and he licked the rim before biting hard on her earlobe, tugging at the skin.

She was animal-like in her ecstasy, tears and sweat pouring down her face. Her breasts and body were pressed into the bed, unable to move as he used her, drilling inside of her tight muscles and giving her the most incredible feeling of helplessness. She could feel the meat of her body vibrating under his thrusts and felt herself near orgasm again.

Her breaths grew shallow underneath the hand on her throat.

"I finally figured it out," he murmured hotly against her ear, forcing her hips to meet his slightly faster, his grip on her throat tightening but not enough to restrict all of her air, just holding her firm. Her pussy was drenched, sliding his hard cock inside and out of her tight insides with little resistance, only pleasure. "You want to be fucked," he punctuated the final word with a hard thrust to meet her. "You want to be used," again the same movement as his momentum built.

"You want to be a Death Eater's whore," he growled into her ear, gripping her throat, his pace growing frantic. He could see her knuckles growing white as she gripped the mattress with extreme might, gasping and mewling despite her restricted air. The unrelenting pace went on for no more than another moment before she brought a hand to his grip on her throat, clawing at his fingers for release. When he granted it, she cried out loudly, shivering with spasms, her muscles dancing around his cock pulling another orgasm from him with no time to withdraw.

Her hips rocked back onto his cock as he slowed his thrusts, slowing and stopping only as he softened inside of her.

She said nothing, nor did she pull from the embrace, his arms wrapped around her as his panting mouth pressed against the back of her neck. Eventually, he withdrew, lying beside her as she rolled onto her back again.

Draco slowly stood, pulling on his boxers again before walking from the bed to resist the temptation of another round or any affection. He began to dress, glancing back to her, used and sweating in a heap—covered in nothing but knee socks.

She said nothing as he dressed, only watched him in silence, brown saucer eyes following his every movement.

"When do we do this again?" she asked softly, her voice ringing out like a bell in the room. She hadn't really spoken much in the entirety of the afternoon, only whimpers and brief grunts. Draco scanned her body, unable to convince himself the afternoon wasn't worth repeating. She was beautiful and broken in ways no one else could see. If she wanted to continue offering herself to him, who was he to deny her? He felt better than he had in weeks.

"Tomorrow night. Make sure no one sees you. Midnight," he found himself agreeing to it, pulling on his sweater, now fully dressed.

"Don't hold back next time," she purred, sending a jolt of electricity straight through him with the words.

"I won't," he agreed, leaving the room, shutting the door behind him.


	2. Bruise Me

Draco headed back to the Slytherin dormitories swiftly. If he was quick enough he could sneak into his bedroom before Pansy had a chance to catch him. After his encounter with the Weasley girl, he craved solitude. Both to process the encounter and to relive it privately.

Women were a species he cockily thought he had understood up until that point. The girls of his world—Pansy and Millicent and the like—were expected to find husbands at school. They were transparent about their desire for a mate with money and power: their security and status depended on finding the best possible match. Given the small pool of eligible bachelors, ladies were held to an impossible set of standards. Physical beauty and societal assimilation wooed a boy's family but only utter sexual indispensability wooed the boy himself.

Girls were really at a disadvantage in the whole system: expected to appear flawlessly virginal and pure to be acceptable, but secretly the filthiest lovers to be accepted. At any point a boyfriend could go public with a girl's sex life and she would be ruined. Only satisfied lips remained sealed.

Draco had never before had a reason to doubt Pansy's place at his side. She was pretty, clever, cunning, socially resourceful, and had kept him quite content thus-far but Pansy Parkinson didn't hold a candle to what Ginny Weasley had just done to him and Ginny had had nothing to gain.

He arrived at the dungeons and made a beeline for his dorm to privacy.

.

Later that evening, Draco scrubbed at his hands and body in the Prefect bath while the rest of the school was at supper. Even after all those hours he could still taste her, he could still feel her throat under his hands.

The power he had held, the ability to take her life if he chose, sent his blood south at the mere remembrance. Draco was surprised to feel no hatred towards her, not really. The irony that his mental anguish that year was caused by an order to murder was not lost on him. He was happily looking forward to seeing her again.

The next day was spent in a somewhat distracted state. He had caught sight of her entering the Great Hall for breakfast, bruises were evident on her lower thighs and her neck—if one knew what to look for. The fact that she hadn't healed them intrigued him, and he found himself stealing more than one glance at the enigmatic redhead during the meal.

He passed her several times during the day, curious how he had never really noticed before. Each time she kept her eyes glued ahead of her, or pointedly turned to a walking companion and shared a loud laugh as they passed. She was toying with him, he was sure, but he couldn't help falling into the trap of infatuation. His mind stewed with plans for her.

At dinner, Pansy was making an effort to gain back his attention. Twice he had postponed their regular meetings, the afternoon prior when he had been with Ginny, and that night when he hadn't been in the mood. She held her need for affection back in the Hall—Draco detested public affection—but made a show of flirting with Blaise over the meal to the audience of their housemates. Draco recognized the tactic, if the right mood suited him he could be possessive over her on occasion, so he placated her with an arm slung around her waist, pulling her close.

Pansy relaxed against him and fed him a bite of her dish, publicly lamenting that his night of Prefect rounds would keep him from her bed. If she only knew.

.

As midnight approached, Draco found his body buzzing with adrenaline. The night was quiet, no students out of bed, no sights in the hallways except flickering torches and the occasional ghost silently passing into stone.

He made his way to the seventh floor careful to not seem too determined. As the Hogwarts chimes struck midnight, he walked the corridor thrice and scanned the surroundings before disappearing through the appearing doors.

The room appeared the same as it had before, the single ornate four-poster bed in the center of the room, Ginny Weasley perched on the edge of it in her school uniform.

"Hello," she greeted him, not rising, not smiling.

"Weasley," he awkwardly nodded in greeting, approaching the bed. He immediately slid his robes off of his shoulders, folding them haphazardly before tossing them to the ground, toeing off each polished black leather shoe before loosening his tie.

Still she hadn't moved from her spot.

"Something wrong?" he asked, stilling his movements.

"I want to see The Mark," she requested boldly. Draco wondered if he had really hit the nail on the head the last time they'd met did she have a Death Eater fetish? Still this soft-speaking demure girl was not what he was used to from her. Somehow he felt a pang of some mixed form of fondness for her despite the brutality of their actions the day prior.

Caught off guard, he appeased her. He approached the bed, rolling up his left sleeve to reveal the Dark Mark tattooed in his skin. Ginny held his forearm close, her fingertips warm and her touch light as she studied it. Draco felt uncomfortable at the attention to something so sinister, but she had a true wonder about her regarding the thing. He doubted she had ever seen one literally in the flesh.

"Can I touch it?" she asked, looking up to him with widened eyes. Suddenly all he saw was a child in her, naive about the design in his skin, about him, about the war. It gave him a pang of discomfort given their recent relations.

"I'd rather you didn't," Draco managed, pulling his arm away from her gaze finally, unfurling his sleeve to cover it. "Besides, that's not why we're here," he tried to steer the conversation.

Ginny managed a small crooked smile at that, her plump lips pursing as she bashfully dropped her gaze. "No I suppose it isn't."

"I risk inflating your ego to impossible size but I have to say yesterday was exactly what I'd hoped for and more," she purred, innocently scooting further onto the mattress. She settled on one side of the bed properly, propped up by her elbows with her legs extended, ankles crossed as she watched him.

His eyes trailed her lower body, from the edge of her hiked up regulation skirt to the bruises on her pale thighs, to the knees and socks he fondly remembered, all the way to her ordinary black shoes. Her legs looked at least ten times longer extended like that, and seemed to be inviting him to pry them apart. He barely heard what she had said, but caught the gist enough to smirk.

"Happy to be of service," he murmured—words that he had never before uttered in his life. He was unable to keep his eyes from her, and reached for one of her ankles, lifting it and slipping off her shoe, tossing it aside before doing the same with the other. As long as she wanted to talk he could move things along.

"No one even asked about the bruises," she boasted, moving to sit upright. "Not even these," she whispered, raising a hand to her neck. She pushed further open her collar, revealing five purpling circles across her windpipe.

Draco felt himself start to grow hard as she stared at him, proud of the mark he had made on her body.

"They're faint," he explained, finding himself almost breathless in arousal.

"So make them darker," she requested, her eyes intense with light, signaling the game on.

"In due time," he murmured, happy to have her back on the hook. His hands reached for her legs again, slipping fingers under the elastic of her right sock, drawing the wool down slowly over and off her flesh, tossing it over his shoulder before removing the left.

"What about these?" he asked, lightly tracing his fingers over the bruises he'd left from gripping her thighs.

"Darker," she requested. Draco pressed his fingertips in on the bruises, shivering in anticipation as she let out a gasp at the dull pain, shutting her eyes. She had tossed her head back, her neck bared again, her red locks flicked back against the pillows as her chest heaved with shuddering breath. He lessened his grip on the bruise and watched her breathing return to normal. He was fully hard.

Draco paused to disrobe, his tie, shirt, and trousers quickly hitting the floor before he crawled to join her on the bed. He separated her thighs, dragging her diagonal by the ankles before stroking his fingers along the skin of her legs with blind fingers, the soft skin addicting to touch.

She laid back, spreading her legs for his hands. Her inner thigh was soft, supple, pale flesh under his fingertips and without much thought he lowered his mouth to the skin.

His teeth sunk into the flesh easily, her cry of pleasure spurring him on. Alternating sucking and tonguing the flesh, he marked a dark circle into the freckled flesh. When her thighs pressed together, when she settled in at a meal or at class the bruise would stimulate. She would think of him.

When he was satisfied with the color of the mark, he withdrew, watching her catch her breath again. "Get naked," he ordered, satisfied as she rose from the bed and followed the direction quickly. She tugged her tie loose, dropping it, unbuttoning her wrinkled oxford and letting that follow before her skirt. He watched the way she wriggled out of her clothing, as if it restricted her. The skirt eased off her hips and he panted as he saw she had dragged her panties off with it.

"I do have one more request," she bit her lip, not bashful about unclasping her bra, tossing it aside like the rest of her clothing, climbing onto the bed fully naked, her breasts bouncing as she settled on her knees, long red hair loose and untied. Draco had never thought he would find her so attractive but in that moment she was Botticelli's Venus stripped of modesty. "Can we extinguish the candles?"

Whatever Draco had expected her to request, that was not it, but he nodded in agreement. It was best if he didn't have her face to remember in ecstasy. It was probably the reason he had been so distracted by her that day.

"Then you'll need a safe word... a word to use if you're really in pain. If I can't see you, I won't be able to tell." Draco slid from the bed to his discarded trousers for his wand. He extinguished the candles of the room with one quick charm, darkness falling for a few seconds before the moonlight of a very narrow, very high window filtered in. His eyes adjusted, and he could barely make out the outline of the room by the time he re-settled on the bed.

"What about 'more'?" she suggested, crawling close to him, her fingers finding his hips, tugging his boxers down a little rougher than he would have liked.

"No, it-it's supposed to be a word you wouldn't normally say during sex," Draco explained, frowning as she didn't seem to get the concept. He was beginning to lose his ability to think as she straddled his thighs, her hand falling between them to start stroking at his erection.

"I don't think I've ever called out 'more' during sex before," she playfully murmured. "Short of killing me, there's nothing you could really do that I wouldn't mind, Malfoy."

She withdrew her hand from his body and he sat up, pulling her close. He could feel the heat of her pussy against his member and he held her breasts against his chest as his lips found hers.

She returned the kiss, allowing him to keep it on the side of tender, not slapping him away for which he was surprised and glad. She let out a shuddering breath and raised her hips, guiding him inside of her with a gentle exhale.

He was glad to be back inside of her again, her hips angling to fully accept him, their pelvises grinding against one another as her knees and long legs tucked up against his sides. She didn't pull her face away from his, sharing his breath as they kissed and gasped into the same square inch.

He had had so many plans, of tying her up and finding a surface to bend her over, of making her voice her desires and say the words that would drive him over. Sharing breath and tender kisses as their bodies entwined had not at all been part of the plan.

His hands gripped along her ribcage, helping her start to bounce her hips. She had a hand gripping at his thigh, nails digging in to the skin as it kept her balanced, her insides vice-tight around him. The pace began to frustrate him, and he realized this was too intimate, too dangerous. She would grow attached, she would want more than this was. She was a Weasley after all and he wasn't her boyfriend. He had to put a stop to this. It was too comfortable.

Just as quickly as the moment had settled around them, he ended it, tugging her body up and off of his. "On all fours," he directed her, roughly tugging her hips back towards him. Her spine reflected the moonlight, one straight line to a mess of darkness ahead. He let his hands fondle the flesh of her backside, finding his grip near the front of her pelvis. He pulled her back, sitting her once again on his cock. They let out matching moans at the connection.

He began thrusting, trying to get into a rhythm but something about not seeing her was throwing him off. Her noises sounded far away in the dark, her shudders and gasps too distant to make an impression. He paused his motion, reaching forward and grabbing a fistful of her hair. With incredible force and a yelp of pain from her, he tugged her upright, her back arching to lessen the tug of his grip. Her hair smelled like juniper and sandalwood brushing against his cheek, like she had risen from forest, like the forest bloomed in her veins.

He breathed in her scent, kept her in anticipation as he pinned back one of her arms with one of his and used the other to find her neck in the dark.

"Draco," she begged, barely audible as his hand grabbed her neck. He buried his face in her hair and slammed his hips upward, once, twice, regaining his head space.

She gasped, an awful choking noise surfacing from within her and he immediately withdrew his grip.

"I'm fine," she insisted, but he stilled his motions and detached their bodies. This was mad. The very real possibility that he would accidentally hurt her hit him suddenly, it was something he couldn't shake. Draco knew he wasn't a murderer, even then.

"Please, don't go," Ginny reached for his hand, gripping it in the dark just as his feet found the floor. She was facing him now, facing the window, the outline of her body just visible in the dim.

"I say we cut our losses," Draco offered, running a hand over his face, feeling the scruff of his jaw's daily hair growth.

Ginny stepped closer to him, betraying his nonchalance as her thigh pressed against his erection. "Don't go," she purred again, squeezing his hand.

"I don't want to hurt you," tumbled from his lips before he could stop it. She circled around him, the moonlight playing off her skin. He was fairly sure he could see an outline of a smile.

"Lay down," she requested of him, running her fingertips up his arm.

Draco found himself unable to leave. He reluctantly found himself on the bed again, and she straddled him once more, taking him inside of her again. Both her hands settled on his chest and she squeezed at his pects as she began to move.

Her muscles pulled him up in suction as she rose, her hips descending on him again and reestablishing the grip. It took her a few seconds to find a comfortable set of movements but as she did, she fell into pace. Her nails dug into his flesh, stinging the skin of his chest but it was worth it if it allowed her to swing her hips the way she was. Up and back, withdrawing his hard cock from inside of her, and back down, pressing forward to take him inside of her tight depth again.

Ginny found herself kneading at his chest as she rocked her pelvis, giving it a thrust forward to seat him fully inside of her again. As she began to find a happy pace, she pulled back her hands from his torso, gripping her own thigh for support with her left hand, winding back her right arm and—with all her might—punching an unsuspecting Draco Malfoy right in the nose.

"What the ifuck?/i You mad fucking bitch!" Draco erupted in a string of curses and she stilled her movement. She wasn't sure if she'd broken the cartilage, but there was blood instantly, everywhere. He felt around his face for a worried moment and her heart began to race as she watched him assess the situation in the low light.

"You bloody fucking bitch! You worthless, stupid fucking _cunt!_ You broke my fucking nose!" he gargled, the metallic salty taste of his own blood trickling down his throat. He gripped her arms roughly, just above the elbows and shoved her off of him.

His face was throbbing, the blood no doubt a mess, and he was still rock hard as she lounged on the bed.

She hadn't said anything, but she was worrying her lip, hiding a smile.

He sat up, angling his head back so as to slow the bleeding, trying to remain calm. "Get your wand, you're going to set this and stop the bleeding," he ordered her, snapping his fingers in her general direction.

Ginny shifted on the bed, kneeling beside him. She gently angled his chin down and pressed her lips against his, the blood of his nose, streaming down to his chin pressed between their kiss. Draco felt her run her tongue along his lips, noticing she was careful not to brush his nose with hers. She didn't want to cause him pain, but the blood clearly excited her.

"Did you hear me?" he growled, shoving her off of him again. He watched her catch her breath—pert, freckled breasts rising and falling in the low light. She did not leave the bed.

"Fine," he grit out. "Lay back," he ordered her, his pulse racing as he thought of what to do with her. He stumbled off the bed for his wand, tempted to heal his own nose but leaving it broken for now. The pain was dulling as his mind was preoccupied with other thoughts. He roughly shoved her hip, twisting her legs until she was where he wanted her to be—flat on her back in the center of the bed.

Draco flicked his wand at her, invisible silken ties binding her arms outstretched to the upper corners of the bed.

She let out a loud moan as she struggled against the binding and Draco ignited the candles of the room again to take in the sight of her better, taking back control. So she could see the bright red blood on his skin. "You deserve to be punished for that," he warned her.

Ginny pressed her thighs together, writhing gently in subtle struggle against the bonds and against her own arousal. Draco gripped her knees and wrenched her legs apart again, pressing a thumb in on the swollen mark his mouth had made earlier that night. "You are not to cum unless I say so," he ordered, gripping her throat to make sure he had her focus. Ginny gave a reluctant nod, and kept her eyes on his as Draco entered her.

He was rock hard. _Enough games and titillation for the night,_ he thought. This was becoming a need-to-get-off and a need-to-punish-her situation. He felt primal, reduced to basic urges. He let his hand slide from her throat, sliding down to her soft-skinned, freckled chest. He gripped one of her breasts with a rough squeeze, feeling her nipple harden under his palm as he withdrew his cock and entered her again.

She was utterly soaked, drenching him with easily-flowing juice as he thrust inside of her, torturing them both with the pace. Her, a masochist and him a sadist. He kept his eyes on hers, and they stared back into his without fear or wavering. It felt chillingly intimate. He didn't pull back.

After a few excruciating minutes, Ginny began to writhe beneath him. "Malfoy," she whimpered, tugging against her bound wrists. He began pumping his hips with swift, harsh force, rocking the entire bed with the might of his thrusts. His cock slid inside and out of her easily, the tight muscles catching and releasing him as he sought his own release.

She whimpered, she arched her back, enchantingly responsive beneath him but Draco was glad she didn't let herself orgasm.

He pulled her legs to press against his body, ankles hitting his shoulders awkwardly as he twisted her body back onto itself, her gaze betraying the words she didn't want to say. This was exactly what she needed. Draco entered into her, compressing her body against the mattress as he filled her to the hilt, letting her adjust to the feeling of a slight crushing. She released a held breath and grunted in pleasure as he thrust out and in again, repeating the pressure. She was getting red in the face, holding back noises and demands. Draco released her legs then, tucking them at his sides as he returned to a more vigorous thrusting. His lower back began to cry out in pain, the pelvic thrusting growing tiring but he kept at it, seeking his release inside of her.

"Please," she finally whispered, shutting her eyes for the first time as he thrust inside of her and slowed his pace.

"Please what?" he panted, reaching a hand down to rub at the junction of their two bodies, his fingers running along her labia, spreading wetness up to her clit which he pinched with a gentle touch. She shivered and cried out, bucking her breasts forward, tugging again at the invisible bonds.

He continued to play with her clitoris as she searched for her words, pleased as she finally opened her eyes and grit out, "Please let me cum."

Draco smirked—how could he not?—and let his hand fall from her clit. He returned to his pace, quickening his thrusts, angling upwards in search of her internal sweet spot. He began to sweat, leaving her in the lurch to gasp and grunt as she withheld from orgasming.

"Fuck, Malfoy, _please_," she cried out, tossing her head back, biting hard at her lower lip as she squeezed her eyes shut again.

"Call me 'Master'," he barked at her, the words coming from deep within the recess of his mind without any conscious thought. It just felt like the right thing to say.

"_Pl-ee-hease,_" she dragged out the word in genuine pleading, tears rolling from the corners of her eyes as he kept up his pace, doing things to her body she didn't know were possible in waking life. "_Master_," she added in a sweet tone, her muscles so tight around him that he was sure she didn't have the will power to last any longer.

Draco nodded vigorously as he began to feel his own orgasm impossible to stave off as well. "Yes, fuck, _yes_, **cum**," he demanded, thrusting twice more before shooting his seed inside of her. He no longer felt the pain of his broken nose.

He released her binds as he recovered from his orgasm, resting on his heels, sitting upright. He was still inside of her. She reluctantly detached from him, moving for her wand, and sheepishly crawling back onto the bed. Draco said nothing as she brought her wand to his face and snapped his broken nose back into place with the Episkey charm.

He watched her conjure a small bowl with a strip of cloth, filling the basin with water before using the cloth to clean the dried blood from his face. It felt tender, but not unwelcome to be cared for like that. He was too tired to protest or process what it could all mean. When she was satisfied with the clean-up, she murmured a charm and the bowl disappeared.

He reached for her wrists, his thumb running over the marks from tugging against his magical binding. "Do you want me to heal these?" he asked softly but she either hear or didn't care to respond.

She slid from the bed, stepping into her clothes again. He watched her dress. Panties, knee socks, her school uniform taking shape.

"I should get going," she finally said, breaking the long moment, her eyes raking over his body, still naked as he now reclined on the bed.

"Come here," he requested, satisfied as she wandered back around the bed, crawling onto it to straddle his thighs.

"Since this is becoming a..." he searched for the word he meant. _Hobby? Routine?_ "...regular appointment," he settled on before continuing. "There are a few rules we need to establish."

"Malfoy," she frowned, raking her nails down his chest playfully. "We don't need rules."

"Fuck you, yes we do," he scowled, gripping her sore wrists, pulling her nails from his skin briefly. "You are not to fuck anyone else. I'm not sharing you with Potter or whatever other Gryffindor trash you've let in your quim in the past. You fuck me and that's it. We meet only here, never in a classroom or bedroom. And next time, we'll have a safe word or I won't bother taking my pants off."

Ginny frowned, but nodded. His rules were fair to her. She didn't really want to sleep with anyone else. She didn't want to get caught. And she sure as hell didn't want this to end.

"And you call me 'Master' from now on," he added, his thumbs pressing against the veins of her wrists, the pressure point causing her stomach to drop in unexpected arousal.

"Yes, Master," she murmured, shutting her eyes as she rocked her hips against his body, unable to help herself. Draco released her wrists, pushing himself to sit upright, one hand holding his body steady as the other tucked beneath her skirt, slipping aside her panties to stroke her swollen, used pussy. He easily found her clit, gently rubbing circles over the wet little bud, watching her pant, go slack, submit to his will.

"Whose hole is this?" he asked, dipping his fingers inside of her before sliding back to her clitoris. "Whose hole is this, _Pet_?" Draco growled, snapping her to attention. She opened her eyes, pupils dilated as she rocked her hips towards his fingers.

"Your hole, Master," she responded, licking her lips as she rolled her hips. Draco tried to resist the temptation, but she was a whimpering, wet woman purring and calling him 'Master'. He was no match for that level of temptation.

Draco slid his fingers from her, gripping one side of her panties and tugging the material until it ripped against her skin. He shoved her back against the bed once more, forcefully spreading her thighs as he flipped up her school skirt. He let her anticipate his movement, watching rock her pelvis, staring up at him, a beautiful innocent face flickering in candlelight framed in flaming red hair.

He ran his fingers along her slit again before thrusting the fingers inside of her, lowering his mouth to her pussy. His movements were quick, precise, less clumsy than even when she touched herself. His mouth flicked and bit her clit, his silver tongue proving its talent against her nethers as his fingers plunged inside and out of her, angled precisely to brush against every nub and ridge of pleasure of her internal anatomy.

She was putty under him, mold-able and enrapturing. She had no idea what she had walked into.

Within minutes she was writhing, biting at her own lapel as she tried her hardest to hold on. When she was approaching orgasm, he withdrew his fingers, dragging them along her thigh before pressing them against her school skirt, wiping them off on the uniform. He licked his lips of her taste, hovering above her. He pressed the tip of his cock against her entrance. He wanted nothing more than to thrust inside of her, cum and leave her, but he had intended to do that thrice over now. She had a way of luring him back inside of her.

He focused his will power and pulled his hips back, giving her one kiss on the mouth, sharing her own sweet taste.

He gripped her throat as he broke the kiss, turning her jaw so his ear faced his mouth now, he bit down hard on the lobe, tugging the cartilage under the skin. "Next time you draw my blood, I will kill you," he murmured against the ear, squeezing her throat gently before pulling back. "Do you understand, Pet?" he asked, pulling on his clothes with haste - not bothering with his undergarments or his tie, grabbing those in a fist.

Ginny nodded, her legs shut at the thigh, watching him dress. "Yes, Master," she called out to him as he left the room without looking back


	3. Abuse Me

Ginny took a long moment to gather herself on the bed. The edge of her skirt, damp from where he'd wiped his fingers, grazed her thigh as she sat up. She contemplated touching herself, cresting to the climax he had denied her, but somehow it felt forbidden. Like he was watching her. She just knew it was something he wouldn't want her to.

She reluctantly stood, trying to right herself. She raked her fingers through her mussed hair, pulling her torn panties off of her hips and tucking them into her skirt pocket. She'd repair them later. With one last look to the room, unkempt from their doing, she left and hurried back to Gryffindor Tower, hugging the shadows to avoid trouble.

Draco invited himself in to Pansy's room after he left the girl. He tossed his clothes to Pansy's bedside as he drew the curtain around the bed and peeled back her emerald sheets. He was still fully hard. The walk to the dungeons had been dull agony. Pansy woke with a smile, and encouraged him to join her.

Pansy always was an agreeable girl.

He slept well afterwards.

.

In the morning, Ginny examined her body in the bathroom glass with care. Each bruise was now pronounced on her skin, the ones on her neck and wrists dark, the hickey on her thigh painful. She stared into her own eyes in the aged mirror for a long moment wondering why it felt like she was a staring at a stranger. All reason within her had rallied to scream how dangerous this was getting. Somehow, she didn't care.

It was all about delicacy and abandon, wasn't it? She felt powerless in Draco's presence but now she was powerless even in his absence. It was ownership. iIf one can call it that./i She didn't feel bound to him in any magical way like she'd read of. This was just a stupid promise. It did not feel like Tom again; her mind was her own, but it had voluntarily devoted itself to him. The bond felt strong.

She took a quick, scalding hot shower and dressed for the day. Somehow wearing her uniform felt perverted, knowing her soiled skirt from the day prior had a trail of her juices dried on the hem, knowing she'd been fucked wearing just a pair of knee socks that first night. He'd turned her entire kit into something dirty. She plucked the soiled socks she'd worn that first night out of her hamper, tugging them onto her legs stubbornly. She wanted the reminder. The Great Hall was still nearly empty by the time she arrived, so she took the opportunity to hastily complete an essay she should have finished the night before. _When_ _he_ _was inside of me,_ she mused to herself, trying her hardest to keep her mind on the task.

"It isn't like you to do homework in the mornings," Harry interrupted her thoughts with a smile of greeting, settling in across from her at the Gryffindor table with a loud clunk of his books. "Everything all right?"

Ginny shrugged, letting her gaze linger on Harry's eyes before flicking back down to her parchment. Green, startlingly green. They were the most remarkable eyes she had ever seen until she had seen Malfoy's lit up and heavy-lidded with pure lust. Not even Harry's green held a candle to lit mercury. "Fine," she murmured, giving another half-hearted shrug.

"I was going to wait until Ron and Hermione arrived but you look like you could use some good news," Harry spoke as he filled his plate with breakfast, pouring them each some juice cheerfully.

Ginny scrawled her last sentence before tucking her ink and quill away, slipping the essay between the pages of a text book as she devoted her attention to Harry.

"I think I've figured out where Malfoy keeps disappearing to," Harry beamed, shoveling a forkful of beans into his mouth.

Ginny briefly wondered if Harry wanted her to congratulate him before telling her any vital information. She decided to indulge him. "That's great news, Harry!" she mustered her most convincing cheerfulness, despite the implications of what Harry knew or thought he knew. "Well?"

"Turns out he's been disappearing to the Room of Requirement. So far I don't know what he's getting up to in there, but Nearly-Headless Nick saw him go in there around midnight last night. It just wreaks of wrongdoing, don't you think?" Harry spoke thoughtfully, glancing back over his shoulder at the Slytherin table, even though Draco hadn't arrived to breakfast yet.

She struggled to keep the color of her cheeks from going straight to scarlet. Ginny wondered where her activities with Malfoy fell on Harry's scale of wrongdoing. _More wrong than dark magic? Less wrong? Which was more unforgivable?_ She crossed her legs under the table, gasping as a surprise jolt of white hot pain shot through her from the twisted skin of the bruise on her thigh. She gripped at the table to keep from crying out, her nails digging in to the wood as she quickly uncrossed her legs and tried to clear her face again as Harry returned his gaze to her.

She exhaled slowly as the pain receded, and filled her plate as Hermione finally entered the hall and settled in at the table, giving Harry someone else to occupy.

By the time Draco arrived at breakfast, Ginny was already gone.

.

Ginny slumped into her chair in the back of the lecture hall as Professor Binns droned on about the Summit on Magical Beasts of 1780. She couldn't be less interested if she was actively putting in effort. She kicked up her feet to rest on the edge of the empty seat in front of her as the lights dimmed and the professor began slide-show of relevant historical documents. Ginny shut her textbook and sighed heavily, idly imagining her next encounter with Draco.

There was so much more she wanted out of their arrangement, and she was pleased it seemed to be escalating in a favorable direction, but something still felt not quite right about the whole thing. She wished he had less of a desire to please her. It was strange how that had never crossed her mind as even a possibility before, that Draco could have been taught to be an unselfish lover.

She slumped in her chair and shut her eyes briefly, drifting off in the dark classroom. She woke up to Colin's elbow jabbing into her upper arm gently. In reflex, she pulled her legs back, setting the chair in front of her to tilt and slam to the stone floor with a loud clank. The quiet classroom disrupted with the noise, all of the students turning to stare at her. Ginny apologized quietly and sat up straight in her chair again, wiping dried drool from the corner of her mouth as Professor Binns continued to talk.

"You were whimpering in your sleep, murmuring, um, something about the Dark Mark," Colin whispered, bright red. "I thought maybe you were having a nightmare or something... and you would want to have been woken up."

"I did," Ginny blushed darkly at the thought of having that kind of dream in the middle of class. "Thanks Colin," she mumbled, sitting straight in her seat again, pressing her thighs together. The bruise gave a dull ache, but she could feel her panties were damp. She couldn't remember if it had been Draco or Tom in her dream. She couldn't remember if it was a nightmare or a dream. She wasn't sure it even mattered at this point.

.

The rest of the morning went by achingly slowly. At lunch, she caught her first glimpse of Draco for the day. Pansy was pressing her shoulder against him, disgustingly obvious with her affection. She wasn't normally the type of girl to giggle and paw at him, at least Ginny had never thought so. Until she had caught them together in the Third Floor classroom, she wasn't even certain they were a couple. But staring at the Slytherin table it would be impossible to come up with any other conclusion. The dark-haired girl doted on him as close to a servant as she would allow herself to be. She filled his plate. She poured his drink. Ginny was certain Pansy would have crawled in Draco's lap to catch his crumbs if she could have. Jealousy flared within Ginny, quickly in a flash and then gone.

She excused herself, grabbing her bag and planning on a quick nap in the dorms—hoping to avoid any other in-class sleeping embarrassment—at the top of the last staircase to the Seventh Floor stood Draco Malfoy, waiting for her.

"How did you...?" She frowned, surprised he'd somehow beat her to the hall, glancing back down the staircase as if it would provide explanation.

He licked his lips quickly, glancing around only once before speaking. "I realized this morning that you and I never set another appointment."

"We need to be more careful," she warned him softly, darting her own gaze around for any sign of another soul, but the corridors were empty. "Nearly Headless Nick saw you go into the Room last night. He told Harry."

Draco frowned, shifting his weight, "Potter needs to keep his nose to himself before I—"

"—_Regardless_," Ginny spoke over him, cutting off the threat. "I'd rather we not get figured out. I'm sure you'd agree."

"Of course," Draco agreed with a frown, quicker than Ginny would have liked. "I'll use a disillusionment charm from now on." Ginny knew it wouldn't fool the Marauder's Map, but it would stop the ghosts, or any other friend from seeing Draco. It would have to do.

"So, tonight?" Draco murmured, already walking past her.

Ginny bit her lower lip before calling after him. "Can it be 11 instead of midnight? I'm properly exhausted today."

Draco glanced back at her, giving a brief, curt nod before continuing on his way.

.

Draco nodded in greeting at Snape as he settled in at his designated potions desk. He'd always felt kinship with the professor, a kinship that had grown with their shared bond of Darkness over the past few months. More than even Lucius, Draco looked to Snape for help navigating the complexities of the Mark and all it entailed.

Severus crossed the room and slid a small, unmarked envelope onto Draco's closed notebook. "From your father," he explained, flourishing back around towards the front of the classroom as the class began to fill.

Draco slid his finger into the seal, ripping it free as the post unfurled to a lengthy, strong-worded letter—hardly something that could have come through Hogwarts post. Draco scanned the words, the threats of 'duty' and 'family honor' should he fail in his impossible task this year. He re-folded the letter feeling his cheeks flush in embarrassment and shame. He was not used to failure, let alone a public one. He was beginning to suspect that no one really expected him to be able to do this at all, which pooled as burning fury in his stomach. He knew what had to be done, and he had the strength to find the will to do it.

He unfolded the letter once more, reading the words again before ripping the note into a neat pile of pieces on his desk, setting fire to the pile with a quick murmured spell just as the lecture began.

.

Ginny arrived at the Room of Requirement just before 11 o'clock, sliding between the appearing doors and shutting them quickly behind her, turning to see the familiar room had appeared. She unfastened her cloak, tugging it from her shoulders, letting it drop to the stone floor by the bedside. She added her shoes and tie to the pool of clothing, contemplating stripping completely when she felt his hands keep her arms at her side. She hadn't even heard him enter the room.

Draco gripped her arms at the wrists, dragging his touch up her forearms to her elbows, squeezing the flesh. Ginny felt her breath exhale slowly, her eyes shutting briefly from the feel of his skin.

"I had a terrible day," he murmured, sliding her hair aside, tucking it front of her left shoulder, bringing his lips to the sensitive flesh behind her right ear. "And you're going to make it better," he told her, pressing his nose against the skin of her hairline as his hands slid around her, beginning to unbutton her shirt.

"Did you think of a safe word?" He asked, his fingers making quick work of her white oxford.

Ginny took a deep breath, licking her lips as she tried to formulate a thought to answer him. "I thought maybe 'a-apple'," she stammered over the word, shutting her eyes in embarrassment.

"Apple," he purred in her ear, tugging the oxford from her shoulders, gripping the shirt at the center of her back, her arms pulling back, still bound in the sleeves. "I like it," he murmured, dragging his lips along her bare shoulder, letting his teeth scrape along her bra strap.

He gripped harder at the shirt, tugging her back to arch as the fabric restricted her movement completely, baring her neck for him. "Do you want to make my terrible day melt away, Pet?" Draco asked softly, sparing a hand to stroke over the bruises on her windpipe, watching as her breath hitched, letting her think he was about to grab her there. She didn't protest at all, which pleased him.

Ginny was finding it extraordinarily hard to concentrate. In their other encounters she had felt a fair amount of control, he had seemed almost reluctant at first. Not tonight. Tonight he had come prepared, with a plan and a persona. She was finding it far too easy to lose herself in it.

"Pet?" Draco prodded her, his hand sliding from her throat to a breast, squeezing to the point of pain, his fingers pulling back the silken cup of encasement to tease her hardening nipple.

"Y-yes, Master. Yes. I want to make your terrible day melt away," she agreed, gasping softly as he rolled her pebbled nipple between his thumb and forefinger.

"You're going to get on your knees and I'm going to blindfold you," he murmured against her ear, his lips dragging along the skin before he darted his tongue out along the rim. It was warm and silken across her skin, its touch fleeting. "You are going to keep your arms behind your back, and open those gorgeous red lips for my hard cock," he whispered, pinching at her exposed nipple. Ginny's breath hitched at the welcome pain and the way his voice lilted over the dirty words.

"When I am satisfied with your mouth I'm going to tear your clothes off and fuck you bent over this bed until you're begging me to stop." Draco let his hand fall from her breast, his short nails scraping down her torso before he withdrew all touch from her.

Ginny's knees wobbled but she quickly steadied herself. When he stepped back, she immediately turned towards him, keeping her arms behind her, tangled up in her discarded shirt. She lowered her sock-covered knees to the stone floor without instruction, her eyes dilated in arousal and the low light as he returned to her with his Slytherin tie.

Draco tied the tie around her head tight enough to restrict her vision completely. He waved his hand in front of her face to see if there was a reaction but there was none. He let out a shallow held breath as he looked at the sight she made, shirtless, arms bound back, one breast tucked out of her bra with a pink, pert, teased nipple. Tied with a Slytherin bow. He unbuckled his pants, approaching her again, running a thumb over her irresistible pout.

She opened her lips instinctually, letting his thumb run alongside the moist interior of the lips, along her teeth and then her tongue. She let her tongue run along the offered digit, internally smirking as he made a soft, unkempt guttural noise of approval and the finger was withdrawn. She kept her mouth open slightly, panting through her nose as the thumb was replaced with what could only be the sensitive tip of his cock, glazed with precum. She recognized the taste.

Ginny had done this for a few boyfriends, Dean in particular had enjoyed this pastime, but she had never before felt this intense burn of willingness to please. She wanted to satisfy Draco Malfoy completely. She wanted to surpass his expectations.

She darted her tongue along the slit of his cockhead gently, licking along the rim of precum in cautious care. She felt the urge to use her hand to hold the cock steady, but she allowed her arms to remain confined behind her. She parted her lips further, gasping in slight surprise as Draco took the invitation and slid the entire head into her mouth, his hand palming the back of her head, gently holding her steady as he fed her half of his length.

Draco let out a heavy exhale, withdrawing his cock from her mouth to allow her to protest the movement, to call him out on the action or murmur the safe word. She remained silent, lips wet and slightly parted.

Draco returned the tip of his cock to her lips eagerly, letting her lick the head again before her jaw opened and he thrust inside of her mouth again. He pushed his hips a little bit further this time, trying his hardest not to choke the girl despite his desire. He withdrew to the tip and pushed forward again, hissing in pleasure as Ginny's tongue put pressure along the underside of his cock while he thrust in. _Minx._

"That's good, Pet," he let her know, "I like that."

He memorized the sight, knowing how rare and precious it might be. Every night with her was strangely removed from reality, and delicate in its rarity. He, of all people, knew to not count on good things lasting. The perfection of her mouth, of her beauty in the candlelight, was a sight that could have made him cum instantly in his younger years and it was something he would have to keep in his memory long after it was gone.

Ginny's mouth began to salivate, lubricating each slick slide into her mouth and out, her tongue pressing against her lover's erection. She could sense from his pace's quickening he was getting close to orgasm, and the will to please shoved any remaining shame far from her mind. She pressed in further to his thrusts, panting as her nose buried briefly in his golden pubic hair, the size of him as deeply inside of her as she could manage. She let her lips close around the cock as he withdrew, providing suction, earning a reluctant moan from somewhere above her.

"Fuck," he panted as she sucked on his cock, staring down at her covered her eyes. She was way more skilled and devious than she looked. He let his body recover for a few seconds, steeling his reserve on his orgasm, regaining control of the situation. "You are going to suck on my cock as if your life depends on it, Pet," he murmured. "You're going to make me cum now, understood?"

"Yes," she murmured, shifting to try and get comfortable on her knees as she prepared. "Yes, Master," she corrected.

"Open," he ordered her again, biting down hard on his lip as her mouth open at his command. It sent a chill down his spine. He slid his cock into her mouth again without hesitation as she responded to his command, closing her lips around him and began sucking the best she could. Draco held his hips still, shutting his eyes as he relished the pleasure. Ginny whimpered softly as her tongue swirled about his member and she gave a frustrated grunt as she greedily sucked down as much of his length as she could muster. The sound undid him, causing him to release into her mouth without warning.

She continued to suck and swallow, panting and whimpering until he carefully withdrew from her mouth. She licked her lips, quickly swallowing the remainder of the bitter taste, hoping her devotion to his orders would earn her her own pleasure. She caught her breath on the stone floor, Draco's touch gone from her completely as the footsteps backed away. In the dark of the blindfold she could only feel her own body, her arms now asleep in their binding behind her, her shoulders and knees aching from their positions, her breast exposed in the air of the room.

She cried out softly as his hand gripped her throat, pulling her up by the neck, her sock-clad feet finding the floor with a slight stumble. His hand slid from her windpipe reemerging at her blouse behind her, tugging the garment free from her body. She panted at the dull throb in her elbows and shoulders, thanking him breathlessly. His fingers slid her bra straps from her shoulders, unclasping the undergarment and tossing it aside, making similar short work of her skirt and socks.

She felt a chill in the room as she stood still, only his tie adorning her. "Is your terrible day getting better, Master?" She asked cheekily.

Draco's bare foot gently kicked apart her legs a little, his breath falling over her shoulder, then her breast, and her other shoulder as he walked around her. "Almost there," he responded, his fingertips grazing her breasts before he pressed against her from behind. She felt his spit-wet cock against her asscheek, his chest at her shoulder blades. One of his hands found her clit easily, appearing there and stroking her lazily as he sank his teeth into her shoulder again.

"You're soaking wet, Pet," he murmured. "You must love sucking my cock." Ginny let out an involuntary shiver as his fingertips dragged through her labia, pulling her juices along with them, over her clit, to her thigh. Draco smirked as she merely nodded, unable to form a verbal answer.

"Poor girl, you are aching to be fucked, aren't you," he murmured, gripping her waist.

Ginny nodded again, panting slightly, licking her lips. "Yes... fuck, yes, please... Draco... _Master_," she added.

Draco had planned to bend her over, to fuck her from behind, but with the blindfold on he felt no guilt about letting his gaze linger on her. He turned her around, leading her to sit on the bed, and then lay back, spreading her legs and admiring the view.

"You really are insatiable, aren't you?" he asked rhetorically, running his hands along her legs, hardening as he watched her attempt patience. It was clearly not her strongest suit. He ran his fingers along the bruise he'd caused, pleased with the purpling of the skin. It would be hell for her in Quidditch season. He let his fingers slide down to the apex of her thighs, running over her pussy again. There was something about Ginny Weasley's tight, wet pussy. Able to take any form of fucking he wanted to give, and always ready to accept more. It was quickly becoming one of his favorite things on earth.

She squirmed under his touch, squeezing her hands into the bedding with a tight grip.

He dragged his fingers along her stomach, watching her back arch as he stimulated her skin, squeezing at her breasts again before his hand found its comfortable spot at her throat. "What did I say about how I was going to fuck you?"

Ginny would remember the words for as long as she lived. "You said you're going to fuck me until I beg you to stop," she murmured. "Master," she added, hesitantly.

Draco licked his own lips, a flash of his day taking over his mind. Father's letter and all it implied. That he was weak, and unwilling to do what needed to be done. He settled over her, bending her knees at his sides as he gripped at her throat. "That's right, my Pet," he purred, squeezing hard at the throat until she gave a soft whimper.

It didn't take long for Draco to regain hardness, watching her back arch gently, watching her face pinken. He pressed the tip of his cock against her opening, sparing one hand to help guide himself, he kept his grip firm as he gave the initial thrust. He brought his body to hover on top of hers, his hips thrusting as his hand held steady.

He noticed immediately as she fell unconscious.

.

The wrongness of the situation dawned on him immediately. Her face had only turned a shade off of red, edging towards purple, but it was difficult to see in the dim light. She had only gripped the bed harder. Before she had clawed at his hand, had gotten his attention in danger. She did no such thing this time.

Draco tugged the tie from her face immediately, checking her pulse with his fingers as soon as he realized she had gone limp. He was genuinely relieved to find her alive. Blood pounded in his ears, his pulse racing with adrenaline and fear. Reason begged him to go retrieve his wand. A quick retro-stun spell would revive her and he could apologize. He could demand to know how she had let this happen. But reason was shoved aside at the perverse notion that maybe this was what she wanted. She was batty, that much was true, but she begged to walk along the dark side of sex. She had told him twice not to treat her like glass.

All sound dulled in the room to him, as if he was in a trance. He observed her, stared down at her beautiful body, her angelic face, and deep within him a voice spoke clear direction. _Take what you want._

So Draco, fully hard and still buried inside of her continued to thrust. Her body was just as warm and wet as it would be if she was conscious, one moment away from slapping him or clawing her nails into her skin, only now she laid back still and quiet. He held her waist firm as his hips pounded their flesh together. Within a matter of moments, he had cum deep within her. He kissed her sleeping mouth as his penis softened inside of her, cupping her cheek and limp neck as he allowed himself to be affectionate with her body in a way he could never be with the girl within. He kissed her pouted lips.

Draco settled on the bed beside her, laying down next to her as he decided to wait until she woke naturally. In the quiet of the room he could hear her shallow breathing, feel her warm body beside him. He liked this much more than sharing a bed with Pansy, he decided. Pansy always smothered him in bed, wanting to lay on top of him, hugging him, strangling his body.

After a few minutes he began exploring her body, hesitant with his touch but unable to resist the temptation. This was not an opportunity he would likely get again. He was careful with her, treating her as though she was sleeping. His touch was feather light as he ran along her curves, pushing her thighs apart again. His fingertips easily slid inside of her, drawing a soft moan from him. His cum and her juice were warm between her labia, the silken feel of her pussy was enticing.

Draco found himself hardening as he settled between her thighs again. Given infinite time and no consequence, Draco wasn't certain he wouldn't just hide out in the room and fuck Ginny Weasley into oblivion for the rest of his life. Avoid the rest of the world. Seek salvation here. He entered her cautiously, his erection spreading her lips and diving into the relaxed muscles of her body.

He knew he would hate himself later, or pretend to, for liking the way this felt. He had thought it might feel like a corpse underneath him, or like an Imperius-cursed slave, but she was so clearly alive and beautiful and warm and accepting in all the ways he liked. She was his own sleeping beauty, tight and drenched inside. It didn't take him long to reach a second orgasm within her.

Draco shoved down his moral side as his second release left him feeling guilty. To compensate for the violation, he healed every last bruise on her body, the circles fading from her windpipe and thigh with perfected charms. He took care with the healing, tucking her into the bed they'd until then only used for utilitarian purpose, wrapping the sheets to hug around her naked body. He tucked her hair to one side, making sure she was resting in a comfortable position for when she would wake.

He dressed cautiously, quietly, feeling silly for taking the precaution but not overriding the impulse. He slid into his shoes and tied his tie feeling strangely satisfied with this meeting above their others. He kissed her lips chastely once more before tucking a hastily scrawled note into the pocket of her cloak and conjured a goblet of water for her, hovering the cup at the bedside.

He shot the reviving charm behind him just as the doors closed.

.

Ginny woke in the familiar bed with a gasp of air, her chest giving a dull ache from dry lungs, almost as if she had been drowning on air. She sat up as the air stung, causing her to cough before she found herself able to swallow and breathe normally again. She reached for the goblet, dunking a finger in the liquid to feel the consistency before taking the chance that it was water. She downed the entire thing in a few desperate gulps.

She took in the room around her, vacant of one Draco Malfoy, with her clothes neatly folded at the foot of the bed. He'd tucked her in, healed her bruises. She tried not to read into the behavior. Most importantly, she had no idea what time it was. She took her time sliding from the bed, feeling unsteady on her legs as she dressed but too afraid to earn a serious infraction from being out so late.

She tugged on her panties, feeling a vague soreness between her legs as the events of the night returned to her. She must have passed out just as things were beginning. She felt embarrassed that she'd been abandoned, and embarrassed that it had placed her in a position where she needed care... the opposite of what she had come to Draco for in the first place.

She fastened her tie hastily, braiding her hair as she prepared for the quick dash she needed to do to return to Gryffindor Tower unseen. She grabbed her cloak and slid it onto her shoulders, picking up her shoes in her hand as she exited the Room and made the dash in sock-clad feet back to her dormitory as the clock chimed out 1 o'clock.


	4. Lose Me

Ginny screamed out, at the top of her lungs. Cried for mercy and attention, but her voice came out silent. Her body remained stiff. Her lips barely quivered. Tom dragged her across the stone floor, her heels scraping roughly, painfully, her limbs and neck flopping about with no semblance of support.

"My pretty little rag doll," he hissed, dropping her arm to the ground, letting her head and upper body give a sickening clunk against the stone. She could feel it resonate through her skull.

Everything ached. Her hair, her scalp, her arm where it was tugged, her bottom where it had been dragged, her heels where they had been scraped. Her insides twisted. She felt her eyes water in frustration, the only outward sign that she had any reaction at all. Her body wouldn't respond at all. Tom had disappeared into the darkness, leaving her in her prison of a body on the cold floor.

"I think it's time to wake up, Ginny," Tom spoke, appearing over her again suddenly. He straddled her hips, the weight of him against her naked stomach making it difficult to breathe, yet she couldn't gasp for the air she needed. His hands found their way around her neck and there was no mistaking him for anyone else. He wasn't Draco. He wasn't a mystery. This was Tom Riddle, the man who became Lord Voldemort, and he was choking the life out of her.

Her vision faded slowly to black but she kept trying to fight the paralysis.

"Time to wake up," he murmured again and Ginny snapped into consciousness with a loud gasp as she choked on her first conscious breath.

.

It was Saturday.

Normally she'd make sure she was at breakfast early, would go for a short flight or some practice with the team, lunchtime, a little revision, and the evening off. Laying in bed after the nightmare, Ginny couldn't get her heart rate to normalize let alone find the will to get up. The sun peered into the tower, passing easily through the curtains of her bed. It looked to be a bright, gray day, not unusual for this time of year. She could hear her dorm mates scurrying about. _Should get up. Should get up. Should get up._

She stayed put.

The night prior had been a jolt, stronger than any before. Draco had very nearly killed her, and under strict scrutiny had assaulted her. She didn't want to admit she was disappointed to have woken up.

Draco hadn't gone to Pansy after his night with the Weasley girl. He put himself to bed alone, half-hard as he obsessed over the memory of the night. Her open mouth, her delicate throat, her blindfolded eyes, and the sight of her laid back underneath him appeared behind his closed eyelids in vivid color. It was likely to have been the most erotic experience of his life. He looked forward to reliving it over and over in his father's Pensieve at Christmas.

Still, his ignored conscience chastised him for having used her. Violating her body, despite her willingness in consciousness, was wrong. It was wrong, what he had done. Evil. Perhaps the first evil thing he'd ever done knowing how bad it was. There was no ideology to hide behind, no history of indoctrination, no orders from a faraway Dark Lord. His actions in the Room had been his own.

He hated that it made him feel invincible.

.

Ginny finally roused herself up sometime after breakfast. She made her bed hastily, taking a long shower before dressing in plainclothes. As she folded her cloak with the intention of tidying it away in her trunk, she felt the stiff crinkle of Draco's note from her pocket.

She eagerly slid her finger along the folded seal, tugging the note open as she settled onto her bed to read it.

_Pet—_

_I do hope the waking wasn't too frightful for you. I tried my best to make you comfortable, but I thought it best if I didn't stick around for the aftermath of my misdeeds._

_You once asked me to hold you down and use you. Tonight was in the spirit of that request. I enjoyed myself._

_Same time tomorrow._

The letter was unsigned, but Ginny still read the words in his voice. There was no doubt to its author. She considered the weight of the message. The admission he wasn't quite making, a fact she already knew, and the perversion it made her twist with inside. He had used her, quite literally. Used her flesh to satisfy his need, fucked her body while her mind rested in idle darkness.

It bothered her more to read the admission than it had to know the truth the night before.

She buried the note deep within her trunk, piling her belongings on top of it, finally adding her cloak before shutting the lid. She could remember doing the same thing countless times with Tom's diary when she was a first year. She'd been deathly afraid someone would find out her secret, compelled to protect her master. How little things had changed.

.

She caught up to Luna in the center courtyard and they agreed stocking up on sweets was the perfect way to spend the day. It would get her out of the castle, if not out of her head. She settled into a carriage with her friend, staring out at the countryside as they began to tug towards Hogsmeade.

"How was your week?" Luna asked cheerfully. "You look a bit tired."

She was tired.

She was tired deep in her bones.

The late nights with Draco had left her exhausted, but she had been no more eager than him to delay or cut back their meetings. "I've been having nightmares," she explained. "They don't let me get much sleep."

Luna nodded thoughtfully at her answer. "I will make you a dream-catcher," she finally resolved. "They work wonders on nightmares."

_What about the living ones?_ Ginny wanted to quip, but she did try her hardest to be sweet to Luna. Not everyone deserved her venom.

"Not the living ones, of course, but the ones asleep," Luna answered with a bright smile, turning her head to join Ginny's gaze out of the carriage towards the forest.

"I'm in the mood for Ice Mice," Luna remarked, and just like that the subject was changed.

.

Draco woke late, unusual for him, but still he rose and dressed wanting a glimpse of Ginny at breakfast if he could get it. He wanted to corner her in the hallway. He wanted to know what he'd done was forgiven.

He was disappointed by Ginny's absence but made sure not to show it, sneering at Granger as her stare rested on him too long through the meal. He was growing tired of living under surveillance.

Hermione quickly looked away, but her gaze returned. There was something off about Draco recently. She wondered what it might be that had him so distracted.

.

Ginny let her fingers run along the crowded shelves of Honeydukes, smiling dully at the usual roar of commotion in the shop. Students ran to and fro with buckets full of colorful candies. She tossed a few packages of sugar quills into her own basket, climbing the narrow staircase to the second story landing, grabbing an assortment of lollipops as she went. Anything to keep her mouth occupied. _And free of Death Eater cock,_ she mused.

"Do you find licorice rope worth the price?" Luna asked, startling Ginny as she appeared beside the redhead.

Ginny let her eyes follow Luna's gaze to the display gestured at, amused at the thought of Luna weighing the cost of sweets like commodities on an open market. 'Tie your friends up in fun!' the display shouted in obnoxious pink lettering. The instant she read the words her wrists began to ache from their bondage earlier in the week.

"I think so," she finally offered her opinion, watching her friend unspool several feet of the licorice, rolling it into a neat corkscrew wheel and snipping the end when satisfied.

.

Colin and Dennis joined their carriage on the way back to the castle, finding easy conversation with Luna about Flying Ermines or some other ridiculous made-up creature. Ginny was grateful for someone to occupy Luna and had tuned out the conversation long ago. She kept thinking back to the licorice rope. She imagined a web of sticky red candy, herself tied in struggle at the center of it. Someone's prey.

"Ginny's been having nightmares too, haven't you?" she heard Colin ask. The daydream of the web faded quickly as she jerked to attention.

She reluctantly nodded.

"Things are getting bad out there," Luna said softly. "It's in the air. I'm not surprised we've all been feeling it. I'll make you a dream-catcher too, Dennis. They really do work wonders."

.

The staircases leading to the dungeons were always deserted on weekends. Still Draco walked the steps with determination, trying to avoid being seen or followed. He gave three short knocks to the door when he arrived at Snape's office. Severus opened the door immediately.

"Mister Malfoy. Come in," he stepped back, motioning to his office in invitation. Draco found himself a seat in front of the desk, settling in as he had so many times. "What can I do for you?" the Professor asked.

Draco carefully thought over his words, feeling slightly nauseous to be asking at all, but once again within him it felt as though desire was overpowering better sense far too easily. The nausea subsided quickly. "I need a sleeping draught. Stronger than I can brew myself. Living Death, if at all possible."

The request seemed to set Snape on edge. Draco watched the man stiffen, shutting his door before settling in at his desk. "That's an extreme request, Draco," he finally drawled, sounding reluctant.

"I'm not sleeping. And when I do it's extremely fitful," he lied. "I doubt I have to vocalize why that is, Professor," he let his hands knot. "If I can not sleep then I can not solve the problem that keeps me awake. Am I being quite clear?"

"That is a dangerous potion, Mister Malfoy. A single mistake in its brewing or dosage and the effects could be disastrous," Snape let his eyes catch Draco's for the first time, holding them. Draco decided to banish the worry evident in them as best he could.

"I am not trying to kill myself," he admitted bluntly, cutting through Snape's polite conversation to the root of his concern. "Even if I was, there are a dozen ways to do that that wouldn't involve you, Professor. But I do not long for death, and I do not long for the consequence it would bring my family. I merely need sleep, dead sleep. The deepest sleep I can get. I have no doubts about your brewing competence," Draco straightened in his seat somewhat, expelling a soft breath.

The two men sat weighing each other's motives for a long moment before Snape rose, walking to a locked storeroom at the back of the office which he unlocked and disappeared into. He returned with two vials: one clear, labeled "Death," the other murky green, labeled "Wiggenweld". He handed the vials over with some trepidation, so Draco mirrored the hesitance as he took it.

It had never been above him to capitalize on someone's emotions for him to get his way, but somehow he felt guilty about misleading Severus, and indirectly involving him in this game.

"No more than two drops to a goblet of water. Allow for ten hours of sleep. You'll fall under within a few moments after intake. Have a friend be prepared to administer you the Wiggenweld should there be any problems waking you," Snape briefed him. "It's very important, Draco. I'm trusting you to be responsible about this."

_Trusting me,_ Draco wondered, _why are people always doing that._ He was the least trustworthy person he knew. Still, Draco nodded once that he understood the strict directions.

"Is there anything else you'd like to talk about? Any other way in which I can help you?" Severus almost sounded sincere. The guilt multiplied in his chest. Draco remembered his father's letter the day before. Duty. Family honor. He shook his head.

It wasn't about finding the strength to do what had been asked of him, it was about finding the will to live with the consequence.

The potion was about having fun before the inevitable end to his life.

.

Ginny kept close to Ron, Hermione, and Harry as they headed down for supper. She'd spoiled her appetite with sweets, but couldn't find an appropriate excuse for missing a third meal that day. She settled in at the Gryffindor table, purposefully taking a seat facing away from Slytherin.

She could feel Draco's eyes on her back through the entire meal.

.

The Third Floor corridor was chilly in the late night. She regretted not bringing her cloak as she sat on the floor and waited for Draco's arrival. He was late. She stared at the wall that kept her from the room, the wall where the door might appear. She needed so much more than sex now. She was curious what their room might look like now.

The whole day had been driving her mad with preoccupation.

He startled her when he appeared before her, banishing his disillusionment charm as if he'd Apparated to the spot. "Why are you waiting out here? Is the Room occupied?"

Ginny stood slowly, shaking her head as she straightened out her skirt. "I thought if I waited inside it might give you the wrong impression. I've come here to talk," she murmured.

Draco gave a brief nod, but said nothing on the subject, merely taking hold of her arm and having her walk with him down the corridor thrice. He opened the entrance that appeared for her, following her and shutting the doors firmly behind them.

She stared at the room, unfamiliar to her. Gone was their bed, the emptiness, the moonlight streaming in through a high window. What replaced it was an endless sea of objects in storage, shelves and chests and piles of items forgotten or purposely lost. The room was spacious, but dim. She couldn't see ten feet in front of her face in any direction.

Draco stood next to her. "The Room of Hidden Things," he explained softly. He had never been inside, but he knew it was where the Vanishing Cabinet was. He'd avoided trying to find it. Now it seemed even the enchantments of the castle had deemed it necessary.

"I guess we need this more than a bed," she said softly, letting silence envelope her words as her eyes scanned the dusty piles of the room in idleness.

"Are you going to apologize for last night?" she finally found the courage to say.

Draco felt his throat close slightly at the words and he swallowed thickly before taking a shallow breath. "I will, if you want me to. But you didn't stop me, before you passed out. You should have," she could hear the frown in his voice, his tone tinged with something like resentment. "And I'm not completely sure I'm sorry I did it," he admitted.

Ginny nodded hollowly, flicking her gaze to him just once, then away. He sounded honest about that last bit. "I think the worst thing is that I would let you do it again. _Which is fucked up._ Proper fucked up. Good and proper fucked up," she exhaled heavily, her lungs laboring as she thought of the suffocation the night before. "There are things that are unforgivable that aren't curses. That should be... _is_ one of them."

_Unforgivable. Like a killing curse. Or a murder. Like torturing someone with magic, or robbing them of free will._

He thought of the vials in his pockets, one to make her fall deathly asleep, the other to wake her. Something in her tone made him ashamed he'd even brought them. It had been presumptuous, arrogant, to think he could get her to agree to a reprise in good faith. She wasn't his slave anymore. He was sure now that she never had been.

"I don't want to do it again," he lied.

"Good," she whispered, nodding her head once.

The silence of the room swallowed her words again, hungrily devouring the sounds until it was like they had never existed. Draco had never heard such silence, a vacuum of sound. He could hear his own heart beating, he could hear her every breath.

"The war is really starting," she whispered, her eyes finding his, grabbing hold of them. She'd been stuck on the endless loop all day, thinking about him and thinking about the war. Combining the two made it easier to preserve herself and end the whole mess. It was nothing but trouble.

"The war started a long time ago," he spoke in reflex, reaching out his hand to cup her jaw, unable to resist the urge to form a connection. His body gave a tingle when she shut her eyelids and flinched, just barely. It wasn't fear, more like hesitation, but still it triggered something within him. His blood began traveling south, swelling his cock slowly as he thought of the way he'd fucked her mouth the night before. He ran his thumb along her lower lip until she tilted her head into the embrace. He stepped closer to her then and pressed his lips against hers.

Cool basil. Betrayal. Pure fire. Just like the first time. Just like nothing had changed. His kisses had always tasted like betrayal, but before it had been self betrayal: her against herself. Now he was the enemy. She felt his arm pull her hips flush against his, pressing her up against the growing hardness in his trousers, displaying his need without saying a word.

She gripped his wrist, pulling back her lips as she broke the kiss. "Draco," she whispered, taking a step backwards, out of the embrace. "Don't do that."

"What?" His brow furrowed in confusion, not breaking his hold on her body.

"Kiss me like all this meant something."

Her words made Draco's cheeks flush with shame. Shame at his own sentimentality. He let his hand caress her cheek once more, sliding down to grip the side of her neck. Firm, but not violent. Daring her to resist him.

She was strong, stronger than she thought. She just didn't trust herself. He understood the feeling, but this—this little game they had—let both of them drop act. She could admit what she needed, he could take what he wanted, and they walked away clean. Clean, that is, until things had become messy.

_You shouldn't want this. What would your family think,_ the words and reasons echoed in her head why she shouldn't do this. She should pull his hands from her. She should leave the room. She should put this all behind her.

_Sod it._

She pressed her lips against his with unrestrained passion, pulling him closer to her by the front of his shirt. He kissed back. They were pulled together in practiced magnetism, his hands immediately roaming her, hungry for her, grazing cloth until they found flesh. Her hands did the same.

Their kiss broke as he tugged her jumper over her head, working on her jeans next in frustration, his lips trailing down her neck as he peeled the denim from her hips. She shoved his cloak off of his shoulders, adding it to their pile before he hastily undid his fly, picking her up by the waist and pinning her to the closed wooden door.

He'd tucked aside her panties and slid inside of her before she had a chance to protest, their frenzied pace cooling slightly the second he was sheathed inside of her again. He let out a hiss of satisfaction and rested his mouth against her freckled skin.

She felt his breath against her chest, warm, open-mouthed, practically panting. He held her firm, pinned against the door as he pulled his hips back and slammed inside of her fully again. She cried out, groping at the wood and stone behind her for something to hold onto as he began to move, hips grinding against hers. Her nails scraped but found no purchase.

His teeth dragged along her collarbone as his cock drove into her, seeking relief deep inside of her tight warmth. The friction was driving him mad, multiplied with every sound she made to encourage him.

Ginny arched her back hard in reflex, causing her to hit her head against the door. She ignored the pain. Her hands fisted in his shirt, gripping him tight as she held on. He pressed his lips against hers in a bruising kiss, moaning into her mouth as her teeth gripped his lip and tugged hard. He remembered she had liked to do that. Blood rushed to the surface of his lip, swelling it as he kept the kiss going, letting it distract him as his hips moved again, thrusting inside of her with force.

His calves strained with the pressure of her added weight and his, but the burn only reminded him to thrust. He pulled his lips to kiss along her jaw, down to her neck where he bit down on her skin with force.

The scream that released from her throat filled the silent room, bouncing off the stone walls and piles of forgotten junk and returning to his ears in echo. He slowed his pace briefly, struggling to hold onto his orgasm as the sound traveled through him.

Her nails found his back then, digging in through the fabric of his shirt, clawing at the muscles underneath. He bit at her skin again, satisfied as she only whimpered now, tonguing the bite in reward to soothe the skin.

He pressed his forehead into the crook of her neck as he focused on his task, his thighs and right arm holding her firm while his left hand fell to her clitoris. Draco guided his his thumb rub over the swollen nest of nerves, once, twice, then in even rhythm with his thrusts.

"Draco," she whimpered, shutting her eyes tight as his hips gave a few shallow thrusts, the added stimulation on her clit driving to a state of pleasureful bone-less-ness. He nodded his receipt of the message and pressed his nose against hers before capturing her lips once more.

His cock, throbbing now, slid in and out of her with slick ease. He could sense her muscles tensing and releasing around the intrusion as she tried her best to stave off her orgasm. He pinched at her clitoris until she let out a moan, her body betraying her mind as she squeezed her eyes shut and held tight to him. She fell apart in his arms, quivering and crying out as the pleasure radiated from deep inside of her. He felt her orgasm squeeze his erection like a tight fist and let go of his restraint. He drove his cock into her tight muscles at a frenzied pace, stilling only once he came, sheathed in her warmth.

Her legs were still shaking as he lowered her to the floor, his body leaning against hers as he too recovered. She could taste the salt of his sweaty skin as he pulled away, laying out his cloak on the ground so they could both lie down. She joined him on the floor only after she unbuttoned a few buttons of his shirt, wanting the skin-on-skin contact.

She rested on his chest, curled against him for warmth in the chill of the room. He cast a warming charm over them and she felt the magic cocoon them like a woolen blanket. It felt like an ending.

Ginny was never naive enough to think anything could have ever come from this, but she still felt it fair to mourn the end. He was the best lover she'd had yet, and their short time together would be with her forever in a romantic way that young loves usually were.

Even if they both managed to live through the war it was likely the winning side would punish the other. Her, for standing with Harry. Him, for the Mark on his arm. One of them was going to be a loser in the end. Their story was always meant to be a tragedy.

"We should go. Before it gets too late," he spoke, but made no movement to end the embrace.

"Okay," she agreed softly, reluctantly standing, gathering her scattered items of clothing to dress. Silence passed between them for a few moments, the silence of the still room, only the zipping and fastening of clothing occasionally breaking the quiet.

"I'm sorry," he finally said. "I am sorry for what I did. I couldn't help myself, but that's not an excuse. I shouldn't have done it. I was being..." _selfish._

"Thank you," she said quietly, clearing her throat gently. "For apologizing."

She let her eyes take him in. The man she'd dragged into her twisted needs. She felt transformed now that it was at its end. She wondered if he felt the same, forever changed.

"You should start your club up again," Draco murmured, his voice soft, his brow furrowed. "The Army, whatever it was called."

Ginny felt her mouth grow dry at the advice. "Why?"

"Because I want you to live through it. The war," he managed the words with some difficulty. It had been clear to him for awhile that if he had any hope of a future the Dark Lord had to be defeated, but it was something he found hard to vocalize since he had gotten the Mark.

Then Ginny pressed herself against him in the dark, her lips on his warm and grateful, soft and sorrowful. A last kiss.

"Don't let them mutilate who you are," she spoke softly as she pulled back, her eyes glittering in the low light as they stared into his own. She peered into his very being. He would miss the sensation of being transparent.

He found himself nodding at the advice as she stepped back, and reluctantly disappeared through the door. _You either,_ he thought as she left him alone in the dark


	5. Epilogue

A year and a half later, the dust of the Battle still hung in the air, not quite settled.

Kingsley and a few remaining Aurors had come by, asking to move Fred's body. They were trying to clear the dead, trying to take stock of the living. Ginny had never had so much sorrow and joy at the same time. Her whole world was shattered, but there was hope that it would be put back together.

As her mother left her side to go accompany the body, Ginny felt for the first time in a long time utterly lonesome. The air had a buzz of victory with Voldemort's defeat and absolute, untouchable sorrow over those lost along the way. Most people had stopped their crying, the night had been too long for the energy to be spared, but no one was overtly celebrating either.

Ginny would have liked to go off with Harry and find a corner to rest in, but he had disappeared with Ron and Hermione awhile ago. Despite the kiss she still felt she was intruding on their space when she was around. The three of them, it would always be. It didn't matter if she warmed Harry's bed, or wore his name. It didn't matter that she wanted to kiss him again, and thank him for saving their world.

Her eyes scanned the Great Hall, falling on Luna and Neville, their talking in hushed tones. It had been something she had seen coming years ago, she wasn't about to be the one to interrupt it.

And then there was Draco, sat between his parents at the corner of the Hall, looking every bit as shell-shocked and miserable as he should given their surroundings.

She caught his gaze and when he gestured towards the Hall entrance, she nodded without giving it a spare thought.

Draco detached himself from his family and left through the open doors. She followed him twenty paces behind as she had when they'd first 'met'. He lead her to a nearby classroom, most of the rubble still too obstructive to roam the whole castle for a more secluded spot. She followed him into the room and shut the door behind them, turning to see the blown open stone front of the room. Most of the tower above and the outer wall had been busted open, dawn across the highlands in full view.

He stood silhouetted against the sun of the morning for a long moment, taking it in. The night had felt ages long, the sun a glaring contrast.

"I can't believe it's over," she said softly, squinting in the light.

Draco knew it wasn't, not really. The reconstruction would take months, maybe years. He'd stand trial, along with his parents, for their involvement as Death Eaters. He'd likely go to Azkaban, at least briefly. The vanishing cabinet, the cursed necklace, the poisoned wine, those were all his misdeeds. Still he let himself suspend those thoughts and agreed with her. The hardest part was over. Somehow they had lived through it.

"Did you lose...?"

Ginny nodded quickly, but said nothing more on the subject. Draco respected her boundary. Given the size of her family, the odds hadn't been in her favor.

"I think about you all the time," he said softly, unable to stop the words from tumbling out.

"Don't, Draco," she whimpered, shaking her head.

"About what you said. To not let them change me, to think of the consequences," his tone had turned desperate somehow, clinging to the statement.

"Child's lessons, Draco," she frowned, shaking her head. "Stop."

"Why? When you're important to someone they should let you know," Draco's words echoed in the empty classroom. "I think about your advice, and I think about the way we used to be..."

"I'm glad I could help you, but I don't want the string that attaches to those words," Ginny could always see through him. She could see through everyone. "Harry and I are together again."

It was the only explanation needed to shut him up. None of this mattered then, none of their past had mattered now, because it was over. Draco was alive but he was clearly not the victor.

He'd stopped rambling but she still didn't want to leave him. She didn't want to return to the Great Hall, to her grieving family and Harry and pretend everything was okay. For her it felt like it never had been, and it certainly wasn't now. Not yet. The only one who seemed to understand that reality was Draco. She stepped towards him then, wrapping her arms around him tightly, relaxing only as his arms squeezed her body close to his in return.

"I fucked it all up," Draco murmured, his lips dragging along her forehead. "I was supposed to fuck you and not love you, wasn't I?" he whispered the question against her skin.

Ginny had never felt her heart break before. When Harry and Cho had begun to date it had been a dull ache, and again when Harry broke things off with her. When she and Dean decided fighting wasn't worth their relationship, or when she found out Michael Corner had cheated on her. When Tom told her she had just been a pawn in his scheme. None of it came close to the feeling that was set ablaze in her chest as the implication of Draco's words sank in.

She felt her eyes well up in uncharacteristic emotion, the exhaustion and high intensity of the night catching up to her in the moment.

It was as close as he'd get to an admission and Ginny longed to echo the sentiment, but it wasn't worth the pain. She gave a pulse of tightness to her hug before pulling out of the embrace, pushing past him to the door, which she wretched open and walked through. She discretely dried her eyes as she walked forward, hoping he wouldn't see her cry.

They had collided together with little thought to the damage it might cause.

She had wanted to hurt, but never like this.

She returned to her family and announced she needed to go home. Percy took her to the Burrow dutifully, without asking any questions.

.

The dreams still came, less frequently since she used Luna's dream-catcher, and almost stopping when she began spending her nights with Harry. But still, sometimes, they came. After the war, the figure was never Tom again. In his place her shadow figure appeared now with blond hair and strong hands that would grip her body, hold her down, make her beg and cry out in pleasure and pain.

She would wake with the ache of bruised flesh and bite marks that were not to be seen.

She would wake with a throbbing quim, sore from a night of phantom use.

She would wake to sweat-sheened skin and a racing heart.

Most of all, she would wake up happy, sated, content with a brief taste of the life she could never live


End file.
